Let Live
by lovelyvee
Summary: Everyone knows the story of Harry Potter, The Chosen One. Everyone knows the story of the Golden Trio. Everyone knows the stories of Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood, and the parts they all played in the Dark War. There is not a single child that hasn't heard their names. But nobody ever talks about their children. This is their story.


**Disclaimer: Everything recognizable belongs to J.K. Rowling. Anything you don't recognize belongs to me.**

**Chapter One: Summertime Sadness**

(Scene One)

_"Look at the moon, Genevieve. Isn't it beautiful? I'd like to live there."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because, darling, the life I've created here on this Earth is nothing but bad choices and haunting memories of happier times. Maybe on the moon this never ending winter that is my life will finally give way to spring. That would be nice, wouldn't it?"_

_"Could I go with you?"_

_The beautiful sound of laughter echoed through the garden. "Of course not, darling. You're the autumn that led to my winter."_

Genevieve Malfoy took a drag from her cigarette as she watched the sun come up. The first rays of sunlight shone through the trees and the sky steadily became lighter as night turned into day. She could still make out the moon on the horizon, a white crescent shape against the brightening sky. It seemed to mock her, reminding her that even though she couldn't always see the moon, it was always there. All one had to do was wait for the right time and there it was again, shining brightly, mocking her.

She took another drag.

The unmistakable sound of moans drifted from her mother's bedroom as the moon slowly disappeared from sight. Normally one would have shuddered—completely revolted at hearing their mothers groan in pleasure—but she had long ago grown used to the sound. Although she did not cover her ears in disgust, it still sickened her.

"Hey."

The sudden voice should have startled her but she didn't even flinch. She had known the owner of the voice nearly all her life and she was not surprised that he was there, as he came to see her almost every morning.

Although she was always grateful for the company, she ignored his arrival, choosing instead to put the cigarette to her lips and continue watching the sky.

He was unperturbed by her lack of response, as he hadn't really been expecting one anyway. He sat down on the grass next to her, wrapping a lazy arm around her shoulder. She remained unresponsive to his touch, and they sat like that together in silence.

After a good ten minutes, she turned to look at him. There was no doubt in her mind that he was handsome as she took in his face, framed just right by his forever-unkempt jet-black hair. His eyes, a magnificent shade of blue, glistened, and the corners of his mouth drew upward into a small smile when she finally spoke.

"Hello, James."

James Potter unwrapped his arm from around her shoulder, picked up the pack of cigarettes that she had left on the ground, and turned it over in his hand, examining the box.

"I wish you wouldn't smoke," he told her.

"I know," she replied.

He placed the pack back down on the ground.

"I'm dating Michelle Hillers," he said after another few moments of silence.

"Really?"

"You know the one right? Ravenclaw Chaser." He smiled a little to himself.

She nodded, clarifying that she knew who he was speaking about.

"I finally asked her out last night. I ran into her at Freddie's party." He nudged her. "How come you didn't go?"

"Didn't feel like it," she said, shrugging.

"That's a shame. You'd have had a lot of fun."

"Mm."

That was the way most of their conversations went, he talked and she gave him short responses. It might have seemed odd to most people, but she liked to listen to him and preferred to remain silent. He seemed to understand.

When the sound of her mother's moaning finally ceased, she picked herself up off the grass and made her way inside, saying goodbye to James with a slight wave. He gave her a small smile in return.

Her home, Maison Valois, was a large house that her father had provided for her and her mother, much too large for just the two of them. Her mother quite often complained about the fact that it was too big for her to maintain, but as she paid no bills, it was never a subject of their many arguments.

As she busied herself with preparing coffee, a soft murmuring came from the drawing room. It was too low for her to understand but she didn't care what they were saying anyway.

Most likely her mother's one-night stand was giving excuses as to why he had to go, and her mother was pleading with him to stay. She didn't know him but would claim to love him. That's how it always went.

As predicted, the door to the drawing room opened, and a man quietly stepped out. He was a handsome man in his late thirties. His clean-cut face and attire gave the impression of a business man or a government official. The pure gold watch on his wrist gave the impression of someone who made a lot of money. The gold band on the ring finger of his left hand gave the impression that he was a married man. Draping his cloak around his shoulders, he gave her a quick nod before rushing out the front door.

A moment later, her mother stepped out of the room. She was wearing nothing but a silk robe. Her brown hair was piled on her head in a messy bun, as she usually wore it when she wasn't at work or at a party. She cried silent tears—obviously upset that her one-night stand had left. She spotted her daughter seated at the table, coffee in hand, staring at the wall in front of her, expressionless.

"Genevieve," she murmured, walking forward, tears ceasing immediately. It was almost as if they hadn't started flowing in the first place. "Ma belle fille."

My beautiful daughter.

Gee said nothing in response. She itched for another cigarette; she drank some more coffee instead.

Her mother walked over to the alcohol cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. Situating herself at the other end of the table, she poured it in a glass and proceeded to drink from it.

Had anyone looked in through the kitchen window, they would easily have mistaken them for sisters. As it was, beautiful Elaina Valois was young enough, barely in her thirties, but still she looked young for her age. Both women were thin, almost fragile-looking, with brown hair. But where Gee's eyes were a pale gray her mother's were a bright brown.

Gee had her father's eyes.

"I go back to Hogwarts today," Gee finally spoke. "Will you miss me?" She looked to Elaina, gauging her response hopefully.

"Mm."

But Elaina wasn't listening. She never was. Her eyes were on the front door, her thoughts elsewhere.

It was clear by the faraway look in her eyes and disinterested expression that she was back in the place where Genevieve could never reach her. It was the place without Gee, her burden in life-her own personal Wonderland.

Gee had a Wonderland of her own. It was a beautiful place. There, she never had to listen to her mother's moans of pleasure or her sobs of pain. There, she never had to see the faraway look in her mother's eyes that reminded her over and over again that she was nothing but a burden. There, the sun always shined and she didn't have to worry about that damned moon ever popping out. There, Gee was free. Free of guilt and free of the moon.

It was a beautiful place.

"You go back to Hogwarts today."

"Mm."

They finished their coffee in silence, each lost in their own personal Wonderlands.

(Scene Two)

"Girls are so _stupid_," Albus Potter muttered through gritted teeth, angrily eyeing his pancakes as though they were the source of his frustration.

"Albus!" Ginny Potter scolded.

"What? They _are._"

The woman's brown eyes narrowed down at him. Past experience told him it was unwise to continue his degradation of the female gender in front of her. Not if he wanted to survive the morning, that was.

"Girls aren't stupid," Lily Potter told him, flicking her red hair over her shoulder, "but Hazel certainly is."

Normally he would've been angry at his little sister for bashing his girlfriend like that, but not this morning. "_Especially_ Hazel," he agreed.

"Well, what have you gone and done to that poor girl this time?" Ginny asked, hands on hips. "I swear, Albus, if you've been sneaking around with other girls again—"

"I haven't done anything!" he cried indignantly. "She's the one that's being so bloody _stupid_. Just because I told her that I didn't want to sit on the train with her and her friends."

"Why don't you?"

"Hazel's friends are all stupid airheads," Lily answered, wrinkling her nose in obvious distaste.

"And they're annoying," Albus added.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

The back door opened, revealing Albus's older brother.

The difference between the Potter boys was obvious to anyone who had ever met them. There was some resemblance between the two brothers, but James, nearly a head taller than Albus, seemed to have inherited the Weasley gene for height. Albus' eyes were a magnificent shade of emerald green while James had inherited his maternal grandfather's startling blue ones.

But the real contrast came in personalities rather than appearances. James was hardworking and patient. In fact, he had made Head Boy and Gryffindor Quidditch Captain this year. Albus, on the other hand, was laid back and charming, seeming to breeze through everything without any real effort. He, like his father, was a natural on a broom. James, like his mother, had to work at it to get to the level that he was at.

"James," Ginny called, surprised. "I didn't even know you were still out. Where were you?"

"Went to see Gee," James responded.

"Merlin, just marry the girl already," Albus muttered, rolling his eyes.

Lily giggled at his words.

James shot him a dark look as he sat down at the table next to him. "It isn't like that."

"If you say so."

Ginny ignored the two boys' bantering. "How is she?" she asked as she placed James's plate in front of him. She looked concerned.

James shrugged. "She's fine. Elaina had someone over again."

Ginny sighed, shaking her head. "I wish she wouldn't do that. Doesn't she know how it affects the poor girl?"

"Obviously not," Lily put in. "Elaina is a slag."

"Do _not_ say things like that about Elaina, or anyone else for that matter!" Harry Potter scolded as he stepped into the kitchen.

At the same time his wife smacked Lily on the shoulder with the spatula she held in her hand. "Lily Luna Potter, if I _ever_ hear you use that word again I will wash your mouth out with soap! And don't you dare try and test me on that because I will do it."

"Ow! Okay, sorry!" Lily pouted, rubbing her shoulder. "Not like it isn't true though," she muttered darkly under her breath, stabbing at her waffles.

(Scene Three)

"Henri! Breakfast!"

"Five minutes!"

Henrietta Creevey frowned at her reflection in the mirror. She had awoken early this morning to curl her hair, but she wasn't very good at it. After much effort, she finally gave up and just straightened it again. She thought her makeup was too much, yet at the same time it didn't feel like enough. She reached for a tube of red lipstick and was pleased with the result. She took a step back from the mirror and straightened out the cute summer dress she had picked out for this morning. Sparing herself one last look in the mirror, she grabbed her wand and then exited the room.

Her father was sitting at the kitchen table, whistling happily to himself as he drank his coffee and read a letter. He was a good-natured man of average height with hair a shade of brown that her mother had once described as 'mousy'.

"And the light of my life has finally risen," he said as he heard her enter the room, "Good morning, my love." He looked up from the letter and grinned at her, his blue eyes twinkling a little.

Henri looked at the average man sitting before her, knowing how much she resembled him and wishing she could look just a bit more like her beautiful mother. But for all of his average looks, Dennis Creevey was an extremely creative and talented artist and any time his paintbrush stroked against a canvas, _average_ was not a word used to describe his paintings.

She sat down and looked down at the plate that was already prepared for her. "Morning, Dad."

"You look prettier than usual this morning. Any particular reason why?"

She didn't look at him as she shrugged, although she knew he was watching her. She picked up her fork and began to cut up the pancakes into smaller pieces.

He tried again. "That's a beautiful dress. Where did you get it?"

"It's one of Mum's," she replied, looking up at him.

He smiled at her and changed the subject. "You've got O.W.L.'s this year."

"I'm not too worried about them," she replied.

He nodded. "Good, you shouldn't be. I have nothing against standardized wizarding tests, but those things do nothing to measure the creativity and thought process of a person." He waved his fork at her. "Those are the really important things."

She laughed at him.

"Ah, there it is, finally a smile." He smiled sadly. "I know your mother makes you nervous, Henri. But don't think on it too much, yeah? She's a bitter woman and that's all there is to it."

"Why'd you sleep with her if she's so bitter then?"

He chuckled. "I was a young man, and she's always been a beautiful woman. Now eat up. You've hardly touched your breakfast."

Henri looked down at her full plate of food, frowning.

(Scene Four)

September 1st couldn't have come fast enough, Scorpius Malfoy decided that morning at breakfast. Family meals were always an unpleasant affair but this one seemed unbearably so. It probably had something to do with the topic of discussion.

"I do wish Genevieve would have accepted my offer to go shopping for clothes," his grandmother, Narcissa Malfoy, was saying. "I would have liked to spend the time with her. She never visits anymore."

"Good riddance," he heard his mother sniff under her breath next to him.

"You need not concern yourself with Genevieve, my dear," his grandfather replied solemnly.

His grandmother frowned. "But Lucius, dear, she's family." She turned to his father. "Why doesn't she ever visit anymore, Draco?"

Draco sighed. "I don't know, Mother." But Scorpius caught the look he sent his mother, Astoria. She must have as well because she stiffened.

An awkward silence settled over the table, the only sound the clinking silverware as they ate.

Scorpius set down his fork and looked up at the most recent family portrait that hung on the wall just above his grandfather's spot at the head of the table and had to stifle a snort in his napkin at the sight of it.

At his grandmother's adamant insistence, Genevieve had been invited to be a part of this year's family portrait. His mother had nearly torn her hair out at the news. But there was no stopping Narcissa once she had her mind set on something.

So there it was, hanging where he could see it perfectly from where he sat: the portrait of Scorpius' dysfunctional family. Narcissa and Lucius were both sitting on a black loveseat in the middle of the large drawing room; behind the couch stood Astoria, Scorpius, and Draco; Genevieve was sitting on the arm of the loveseat closest to Narcissa. No one, save for Narcissa, was smiling.

No one ever smiles when Gee is even mentioned, he thought bitterly to himself. He sighed as he was stabbed by a pang of guilt. It wasn't that he didn't love Gee, because he did—she was his half-sister after all—but he hated the strain her existence caused on his family.

He stabbed at his eggs, glancing quickly at his watch, glad that it was almost time for him to leave to the train.


End file.
